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Диана Уинн Джонс - Дом ста дорог [with w_cat]

Читать бесплатно Диана Уинн Джонс - Дом ста дорог [with w_cat]. Жанр: Языкознание издательство неизвестно, год 2004. Так же читаем полные версии (весь текст) онлайн без регистрации и SMS на сайте kniga-online.club или прочесть краткое содержание, предисловие (аннотацию), описание и ознакомиться с отзывами (комментариями) о произведении.
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[230] "Peter Regis," he said. "My mother's the Witch of Montalbino. She's a great friend of William Norland's and she arranged with him for me to come here. Do be quiet, little dog. I'm meant to be here." He heaved himself out of the wet knapsack and dumped it on the floor. Waif stopped barking in order to venture out from under the chair and sniff at the knapsack in case it might be dangerous. Peter took the chair and hung his wet jacket on it. His shirt underneath was almost as wet. "And who are you?" he asked, peering at Charmain among the bubbles.

[231] "Charmain Baker," she told him and explained, "We always call the wizard Great-Uncle William, but he's Aunt Sempronia's relation, really. I live in High Norland. Where have you come from? Why did you come to the back door?"

[232] "I came down from Montalbino," Peter said. "And I got lost, if you must know, trying to take the short cut from the pass. I did come here once before, when my mother was arranging for me to be Wizard Norland's apprentice, but I don't seem to have remembered the way properly. How long have you been here?"

[233] "Only since this morning," Charmain said, rather surprised to realize she had not been here a whole day yet. It had felt like weeks.

[234] "Oh." Peter looked at the teapots through the floating bubbles, as if he were calculating how many cups of tea

Charmain had drunk. "It looks as if you'd been here for weeks."

[235] "It was like this when I came," Charmain said coldly.

[236] "What? Bubbles and all?" Peter said.

[237] Charmain thought, I don't think I like this boy. "No," she said. "That was me. I forgot I'd thrown my soap into the grate."

[238] "Ah," Peter said. "I thought it looked like a spell that's gone wrong. That's why I assumed you were an apprentice too. We'll just have to wait for the soap to be used up, then. Have you any food? I'm starving."

[239] Charmain's eyes went grudgingly to her bag on the table. She turned them away quickly. "No," she said. "Not really."

"What are you going to feed your dog on, then?" Peter said.

[240] Charmain looked at Waif, who had gone under the chair again in order to bark at Peter's knapsack. "Nothing. He's just had half a pork pie," she said. "And he's not my dog. He's a stray that Great-Uncle William took in. He's called Waif."

[241] Waif was still yapping. Peter said, "Do be quiet, Waif," and reached among the storming bubbles and past his wet jacket to where Waif crouched under the chair. Somehow he dragged Waif out and stood up with Waif upside down in his arms. Waif uttered a squeak of protest, waved all four paws, and curled his frayed tail up between his back legs.

Peter uncurled the tail.

[242] "You've damaged his dignity," Charmain said. "Put him down."

"He isn't a he," Peter said. "He's a she. And she hasn't got any dignity, have you, Waif?"

[243] Waif clearly disagreed, and managed to scramble out of Peter's arms onto the table. Another teapot fell down, and

Charmain's bag tipped over. To Charmain's great dismay, the pork pie and the apple tart rolled out of it.

[244] "Oh, good!" said Peter, and snatched up the pork pie just before Waif got to it. "Is this all the food you've got?" he said, biting deeply into the pie.

"Yes," Charmain said. "That was breakfast."

[245] She picked the fallen teapot up. The tea that had spilled out of it rapidly turned into brown bubbles, which whirled upward to make a brown streak among the other bubbles. "Now look what you've done."

[246] "A bit more won't make any difference to this mess," Peter said. "Don't you ever tidy up? This is a really good pie. What's this other one?"

[247] Charmain looked at Waif, who was sitting soulfully beside the apple tart. "Apple," she said. "And if you eat it, you have to give some to Waif too."

[248] "Is that a rule?" Peter said, swallowing the last of the pork pie.

"Yes," said Charmain. "Waif made it and he—I mean she—is very firm about it."

[249] "She's magical, then?" Peter suggested, picking up the apple tart. Waif at once made small soulful noises and trotted about among the teapots.

"I don't know," Charmain began. Then she thought of the way Waif seemed to be able to go anywhere in the house and how the front door had burst open for her earlier on. "Yes," she said. "I'm sure she is. Very magical."

Slowly and grudgingly, Peter broke a lump off the apple tart. Waif's frayed tail wagged and Waif's eyes followed his every movement. She seemed to know exactly what Peter was doing, no matter how many bubbles got in the way. "I see what you mean," Peter said, and he passed the lump to Waif. Waif gently took it in her jaws, jumped from the table to the chair and then to the floor, and went pattering away to eat it somewhere behind the laundry bags. "How about a hot drink?" Peter said.

[250] A hot drink was something Charmain had been yearning for ever since she fell off the mountainside. She shivered and hugged her sweater round herself. "What a good idea," she said. "Do make one if you can find out how."

[251] Peter waved bubbles aside to look at the teapots on the table. "Someone must have made all these pots of tea," he said.

"Great-Uncle William must have made them," Charmain said. "It wasn't me."

[252] "But it shows it can be done," Peter said. "Stop standing there looking feeble and find a saucepan or something."

"You find one," Charmain said.

[253] Peter shot her a scornful look and strode across the room, waving bubbles aside as he went, until he reached the crowded sink. There he naturally made the discoveries that Charmain had made earlier. "There are no taps!" he said incredulously. "And all these saucepans are dirty. Where does he get water from?"

[254] "There's a pump out in the yard," Charmain said unkindly.

[255] Peter looked among the bubbles at the window, where rain was still streaming across the panes. "Isn't there a bathroom?" he said. And before Charmain could explain how you got to it, he waved and stumbled his way across the kitchen to the other door and arrived in the living room. Bubbles stormed in there around him as he dived angrily back into the kitchen. "Is this a joke?" he said incredulously. "He can't have only these two rooms!"

[256] Charmain sighed, huddled her sweater further around herself, and went to show him. "You open the door again and turn left," she explained, and then had to grab Peter as he turned right. "No. That way goes to somewhere very strange.

This is left. Can't you tell?"

[257] "No," Peter said. "I never can. I usually have to tie a piece of string round my thumb."

[258] Charmain rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and pushed him left. They both arrived in the corridor, which was loud with the rain pelting across the window at the end. Light slowly flooded the place as Peter stood looking around.

[259] "Now you can turn right," Charmain said, pushing him that way. "The bathroom's this door here. That row of doors leads to bedrooms."

[260] "Ah!" Peter said admiringly. "He's been bending space. That's something I can't wait to learn how to do. Thanks," he added, and plunged into the bathroom. His voice floated back to Charmain as she tiptoed toward the study. "Oh, good!

Taps! Water!"

[261] Charmain whisked herself into Great-Uncle William's study and closed the door, while the funny twisted lamp on the desk lit up and grew brighter. By the time she reached the desk, it was almost bright as daylight in there. Charmain shoved aside Das Zauberbuch and picked up the bundle of letters underneath. She had to check. If Peter was telling the truth, one of the letters asking to be Great-Uncle William's apprentice had to be from him. Because she had only skimmed through them before, she had no memory of seeing one, and if there wasn't one, she was dealing with an imposter, possibly another lubbock. She had to know.

[262] Ah! Here it was, halfway down the pile. She put her glasses on and read:

[263] Esteemed Wizard Norland,

With regard to my becoming your apprentice, will it be convenient for me to arrive with you in a week's time, instead of in the autumn as arranged? My mother has to journey into Ingary and prefers to have me settled before she leaves.

Unless I hear from you to the contrary, I shall present myself at your house on the thirteenth of this month.

Hoping this is convenient,

Yours faithfully,

Peter Regis

[264] So that seems to be all right! Charmain thought, half relieved and half annoyed. When she had skimmed the letters earlier, her eye must have caught the word apprentice near the top and the word hoping near the bottom, and those words were in all the letters. So she had assumed it was just another begging letter. And it looked as if Great-Uncle William had done the same. Or perhaps he had been too ill to reply. Whatever had happened, she seemed to be stuck with Peter. Bother! At least he's not sinister, she thought.

[265] Here she was interrupted by dismayed yelling from Peter in the distance. Charmain hastily stuffed the letters back under Das Zauberbuch, snatched off her glasses, and dived out into the corridor.

[266] Steam was blasting out of the bathroom, mixing with the bubbles that had strayed in there. It almost concealed something vast and white that was looming toward Charmain.

[267] "What have you d—" she began.

This was all she had time to say before the vast white something put out a gigantic pink tongue and licked her face. It also gave out a huge trumpeting sound. Charmain reeled backward. It was like being licked by a wet bath towel and whined at by an elephant. She leaned against the wall and stared up into the creature's enormous, pleading eyes.

[268] "I know those eyes," Charmain said. "What has he done to you, Waif?"

[269] Peter surged out of the bathroom, gasping. "I don't know what went wrong," he gasped. "The water didn't come out hot enough to make tea, so I thought I'd make it hotter with a Spell of Enlargement."

[270] "Well, do it backward at once," Charmain said. "Waif's the size of an elephant."

[271] Peter shot the huge Waif a distracted look. "Only the size of a carthorse. But the pipes in here are red hot," he said.

"What do you think I should do?"

[272] "Oh, honestly!" Charmain said. She pushed the enormous Waif gently aside and went to the bathroom. As far as she could see through the steam, boiling water was gushing out of all four taps and flushing into the toilet, and the pipes along the walls were indeed glowing red. "Great-Uncle William!" she shouted. "How do I make the bathroom water cold?"

[273] Great-Uncle William's kindly voice spoke among the hissing and gushing. "You will find further instructions somewhere in the suitcase, my dear."

[274] "That's no good!" Charmain said. She knew there was no time to go searching through suitcases. Something was going to explode soon. "Go cold!" she shouted into the steam. "Freeze! All you pipes, go cold at once!" she screamed, waving both arms. "I order you to cool down!"

[275] It worked, to her astonishment. The steam died away to mere puffs and then vanished altogether. The toilet stopped flushing. Three of the taps gurgled and stopped running. Frost almost instantly formed on the tap that was running— the cold tap over the washbasin—and an icicle grew from the end of it. Another icicle appeared on the pipes that ran across the wall and slid, hissing, down into the bath.

[276] "That's better," Charmain said, and turned round to look at Waif. Waif looked sadly back. She was as big as ever.

[277] "Waif," Charmain said, "go small. Now. I order you."

[278] Waif sadly wagged the tip of her monstrous tail and stayed the same size.

[279] "If she's magic," Peter said, "she can probably turn herself back if she wants to."

[280] "Oh, shut up!" Charmain snapped at him. "What did you think you were trying to do anyway? No one can drink scalding water."

[281] Peter glowered at her from under the twisted, dripping ends of his hair. "I wanted a cup of tea," he said. "You make tea with boiling water."

[282] Charmain had never made tea in her life. She shrugged. "Do you really?" She raised her face to the ceiling. "Great-Uncle William," she said, "how do we get a hot drink in this place?"

[283] The kindly voice spoke again. "In the kitchen, you tap the table and say 'Tea,' my dear. In the living room, tap the trolley in the corner and say 'Afternoon Tea.' In your bedroom—"

[284] Neither Peter nor Charmain waited to hear about the bedroom. They dived forward and slammed the bathroom door, opened it again—Charmain giving Peter a stern push to the left—and jammed themselves through it into the kitchen, turned round, shut the door, opened it again, and finally arrived in the living room, where they looked eagerly around for the trolley. Peter spotted it over in the corner and reached it ahead of Charmain. "Afternoon Tea!" he shouted, hammering mightily upon its empty, glass-covered surface. "Afternoon Tea! Afternoon Tea! Aftern—"

[285] By the time Charmain got to him and seized his flailing arm, the trolley was crowded with pots of tea, milk jugs, sugar bowls, cups, scones, dishes of cream, dishes of jam, plates of hot buttered toast, piles of muffins, and a chocolate cake.

A drawer slid out of the end of it, full of knives, spoons, and forks. Charmain and Peter, with one accord, dragged the trolley over to the musty sofa and settled down to eat and drink. After a minute, Waif put her huge head round the door, sniffing. Seeing the trolley, she shoved a bit and arrived in the living room too, where she crawled wistfully and mountainously over to the sofa and put her enormous hairy chin on the back of it behind Charmain. Peter gave her a distracted look and passed her several muffins, which she ate in one mouthful, with huge politeness.

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